He Was Always Right
by Tinea
Summary: Superman's POV. Superman and Batman deal with the death of a mutual friend and how it changes things. Not what you'd expect. One shot. Not slash. JLA crossover


**Kay, now, I love Batman, and I just wanted to try my hand at a one shot from Superman's POV. Keep in mind this is my 'sweet, thoughtful, Clarky' version and not the more recent 'all-powerful, jaded, not-very-optimistic' version. I am a firm believer in truth, justice, (pancakes) and the American way, and IMO, so is Clark. Now, I don't actually read the comics for the most part (thought I'd like to,), but I do try to keep up with the latest happenings. Anyone who's kept tabs on the whole "Final Crisis" thing may understand this much better than someone who hasn't.**

**Like I said, love Bats, but this is just something different from my ususal stuff that I wanted to try. Anyone who can guess what's going on my the end of the story get's Superman sugar cookies with red, white, and blue sprinkles.**

**The quote in there, (the 'dead' one, not the other one), is from Infinate Crisis Vol 1 1. I was trying to go for comic book acuracy, but I have never actually read Infinate Crisis, so I have no idea what was going on when that was said. I read a review on wikipedia and made some reasonable and vague guesses.**

**Thanks for reading, and enjoy!**

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Batman didn't cry. It didn't happen. It was one of those things people didn't even joke about. It didn't occur to anyone that it was even possible. Sure, they'd tell you, if you asked them. Sure, Batman was human. Did Batman cry? If you asked them, they wouldn't be able to answer. They would just stare at you. Where had you come up with that? What was with you? Were you crazy? ... Batman didn't cry.

So, it shocked Clark Kent, only for a moment, to find just that when he went up to the roof of the Metro Tower. It pained him to see it.

Batman had been acting just a little strange. Almost no one had noticed.

He had been a little less intimidating. They were just finally getting use to him, that was all. He sounded different. Well, he was starting to get up there in years, right? Was Flash as tall as him now? Flash was still pretty young, so it was only a matter of time before he caught up in height, wasn't it? He looked thinner. Surely, with that sudden crime spree in Gotham, he didn't have time to eat.

Clark knew the real reasons. Teamwork and friendship came naturally to him, it was hard to appear threatening. His voice was natually more of a tenor, trying to lower it to a deep growl sounded strange. Flash, much to his disapointmen, hadn't grown an inch. Batman was simply four inches shorter. He had never had much bulk to him, either. It would interfere with his movement.

Almost no one made anything out of it. Most of them were still too shocked by Darkseid's attack to make much out of anything. A few minor differences in Batman's already scarce personality were nothing they needed to concern themselves with.

Nothing that out of character had happened anyway. Not until today. He had been unfocused all day, acting stranger than usual.

Aquaman had simply called out 'Hey, Batman!' to which Batman had absently replyed 'No, he's-' He suddenly snapped back to reality, looked around, and quickly left for the roof. No one was quite sure of what had just happened, but one look from Superman told them not to question it.

He walked up to Batman, who had unconciously balanced himself perfectly on the ledge, his knees drawn up, arms draped over them, head hung low, and tears hidden safely behind the cowl.

"Are you alright?" He asked. Of course not. He knew the answer. Of course he wasn't alright.

Batman didn't move from his dejected position. He made no attempt to answer.

"...What happened, back there... It wasn't-"

"-I forgot-"

Clark's eyes shot up at inhuman speeds. Shock clearly evident on his features.

"I just forgot-" Batman continued to himself in an almost disbelieving tone, "I wasn't thinking about it, and it just slipped out."

He shook his head, as if he was angry with himself and not sure why.

"It happened so many times when I was younger." He said, "I would turn to tell my parents something, show them something, ask them a question... I would be half way through the sentence when I would remember that they were dead... Everytime it happened, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck."

Clark risked a reply. "How do you feel now?"

Batman frowned bitterly, "Like I've been hit by a truck," and then he turned away.

It hurt Clark to see his friend like this. He had known the other man when he first became a hero. He respected him, and was honored to call him a friend. They were a lot alike in many ways, they talked often, and when either was in the other's city, they would make a point a hanging out and catching up. It bothered him that during this terrible ordeal, when he was clearly in so much pain, he was shutting him out.

"... I'm sorry..."

He heard a sigh, "You don't have anything to apologise for, Kal."

"... I know. I'm still sorry..."

Batman nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. I think I understand... I think I'm sorry, too."

Clark didn't have the heart to ask the question he really wanted answered: How long would it hurt like this? Batman had lost loved ones. He would be able to answer. Clark? He had never lost anyone he was close to. He still had Ma and Pa, and likely would for a great while. Kara may have been in the future, and not with them, but she was alive and apparently very happy. Jimmy was fine as always, and Lois... He had Lois. He didn't remember his biological parents, and no one else he was close to had ever died before... until now.

He felt like he had lost not just a confidant and dear friend, but a brother.  
Someone he had always relied on to keep him honest, to keep his secrets, and to keep him safe, was suddenly gone and Clark didn't know how to handle that. He no longer felt confident when they went out to battle the latest supervillan. He felt anxious and sick to his stomach. His chest tightened whenever it was made evident that his best friend was really gone. He felt like he might cry everytime he had to pretend that there was nothing wrong.

He wanted to know how long it would be like this. How long would it be before he could listen to one of Aquaman's bitter rants and not feel the urge to punch the Atlantian in the face? How long would it be before he could listen to one of Flash's jokes _(not knowing he was joking about a dead man)_ and not find them horribly upseting to hear? How long before he would be able to look Diana in the eyes again?

But how could he ask? How could he ask a question he just knew he wouldn't like the answer to? Did he really want to confirm his fear that things would never be completely alright? ... But he needed the truth, so he asked anyway.

"Is it ever OK again? ... I mean, does it stop hurting, ever?"

Batman turned to him, and even without using his X-ray vision, Clark could clearly see the pity and empathy on his face.

"You really want to know the answer?" He asked.

"-No... but I think- I think I need to."

Batman considered this and frowned sadly, "Yeah." He chewed his lower lip before he continued, "It does hurt... I don't think it ever stops. It'll get better, but it won't go away... but-" and Clark quickly looked up, "-that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Pain reminds you what you're fighting for... Pain keeps you honest. It can be your insiration, when hope isn't enough to keep you going..."

_"-Let's face it "Superman", the last time you really inspired anyone... was when you were dead-"_

The words echoed in the back of his mind. When he first heard them, he'd been angry and arguing. Bruce had said it, and he knew exactly which nerve to strike and how to strike it. And just like everything else that Bruce said, it was much later before he realized there was more being said than he had first thought.

_"-Let's face it "Superman"-"_

He thought it was nothing more than a petty insult. Bruce didn't agree with him- He didn't agree with Bruce- Things were said. But Bruce always thought ahead, and he knew eventually Clark would catch up. He called him "Superman" like he didn't believe him... And to be fair he hadn't exactly been acting very 'super'. He had the reputation of a boy scout, a nice guy, a country bumpkin even, and if anyone ever asked him who he really was, he would have said he was Clark Joseph Kent, raised on corn, pancakes and hardwork by good, God-fearing parents on a little farm in Smallville, Kansas before he moved to the big city and got a job as an investigative journalist, filled with ideals and bent on uncovering the truth.

No matter what else had happened, he was most decidedly **not** acting like good-natured, small town, mild-mannerd Clark Kent, and now that he thought about it, Bruce had been calling him on that.

_"It can be your insiration, when hope isn't enough to keep you going..."_

Maybe that was what he meant, afterall...

_"-the last time you really inspired anyone... was when you were dead-"_

He use to think about those words. They had hurt, but underneath the sting, was there truth to them? Maybe all the good examples and smiles and friendliness really were meaningless in the end... Maybe the only time he really impacted people's lives was when they thought he had died. Or... Maybe... Maybe that wasn't what Bruce meant at all.

Bruce's greatest inspiration had come from death: His parent's death, Jason's death, Vesper's death. What about him? Had Clark's own apparent death been added to that list? Had _he_ been an inspiration to the Batman? Bruce sure had a funny way of telling people he had missed them, that they mattered to him.

And then that tightening in his chest was back, and it hurt all over again.

"You gonna be OK?"

Clark looked over to Batman in suprise once again, "When I came up here, I thought I was suppose to be consoling you, not the other way around."

Batman smiled sadly, "When I wasn't taking things too well, you were there and helped me figure some stuff out. I think it's way past time I returned the favor. Besides, I like helping. It makes me feel useful, and that makes me feel a little better anyways."

Clark returned the smile, "I suppose that was the goal, not quite what I had in mind, but... It worked out better than I hoped."

Then Batman laughed lightly, saying, "He always _did_ say that 'Hope' was what you did best."

"-And he was always right."


End file.
